


Let's Live Forever

by skynikk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adulthood AU, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Smut, Top Kenma, pink hair Kenma, plot maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4426724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skynikk/pseuds/skynikk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "lazy Sunday" with Kuroo is not lazy. And it's rather ridiculous. Kenma enjoys flustering Kuroo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Live Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eicinic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eicinic/gifts).



> So this is a fic for Gin, and a shameless indulgence in her Adulthood au and referencing various headcanons. Also top Kenma.
> 
> Consider this a first draft with a few typos, probably. To be edited.

Kuroo is lying on his chest, head tilted towards him, breathing softly into his skin, warm in the late morning sun. Days like these, blissfully slow Sundays, were both comforting and surreal to Kenma, carrying a certain feeling of things sliding sideways into reality like they had been there the whole time. A cool breeze blew into the room, gently rustling bedsheets and turning fluttering pages of Kuroo’s books, left open on their spines. Kuroo sighed and drowsily curled into Kenma’s lap without opening his eyes, refusing to acknowledge being awake, despite the endless, near deafening buzz of the cicadas singing outside. How he had ended up in his lap on the floor was a mystery.  Kenma’s gaze drifted down from his phone to trace the lines of Kuroo’s body. His back was still marked with red indents from sheets crushed beneath him when he crawled into the bed in the pre-dawn, exhausted, and fell asleep curled up like a cat. Kenma, used to Kuroo’s habits, had simply wrapped his limbs around him, snuggled close, and promptly fallen back to sleep.

The dark smudges under Kuroo’s eyes never really went away these days. Kenma gave a small frown at them, his hand flicking outwards minutely, as if to shoo them away. As if it was that easy. He let a low sigh, glancing towards Kuroo’s hands, the long fingers curled into the fabric of Kenma’s shorts, twitching as he stirred into waking. Dark hooded eyes looked up at him, blinking slowly in the light, a lazy crooked smile appearing as Kuroo focuses on him.

“Morning, kitten.” Kuroo looks so unguarded and soft, with his eyes hazy from sleep and his hair ridiculously messy, that Kenma unconsciously holds his breath, and replies by silently tangling his hand in Kuroo’s hair.

Kuroo simply stares at him, eyes quickly growing sharper, sleepy smile turning into a predatory grin....and Kenma has to wonder what will happen today, when Kuroo’s making such an expression.

***

Three hours later, Kenma decided Kuroo had too much energy for a “lazy Sunday” to be a concept Kuroo even thought about. Ever. Unless he was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, and even then he might try to fit in a short round of volleyball or start his next project. Because most of the time, Kuroo was too jittery from too much coffee to know his limits.

Kuroo had taken him out for a late breakfast at a café, then promptly declared that they should have a “fun day”, and then dragged him through every store they could conceivably take interest in at the mall. Kenma had fidgeted for almost an hour while Kuroo skimmed through shelves of books, his interest in the various manga and comics quickly waning, since he had read most of them. Finally, they went to the game shop, and Kenma quickly became glued to a colorful display showing the latest game that would “leave you catatonic from playing for three days straight, why”, Kenma stared at Kuroo at that. Kuroo had stayed up for 72 hours straight on his last project; obviously neither of them were good at moderation. But Kuroo just rolled his eyes when he said so. Kenma shrugged, and reached out to grab a bright box, only to have a large hand reach over his shoulder and snatch it away. Eyes wide, argument on his lips, Kemna turned, and froze as he watched Kuroo stride away. Kuroo chatted up the cashier, a slight smirk on his face as he leaned on the counter, glancing back at him with raised eyebrows. Eyes narrowed, Kenma watched him the game, tucking the shop bag under his arm as he walked casually out of the shop without another word. Kenma rushed to catch up. Kuroo simply walked on for a while, and when Kenma made a move to take the bag, Kuroo moved his hand out of reach. Surprised, Kenma glanced up to find Kuroo smirking.

“I’m not sure I want to give you this pretty little game just yet.”

Kenma made a small frown.

“What will you do to convince me?” Kuroo teased, eyes wide and innocent-looking.

Kenma stared a moment, considering, lips pouting, before taking a step forward, leaning close, watching Kuroo’s gaze wander down to Kenma’s lips, before saying softly,

“I _could_ fuck you senseless tonight.” Kuroo froze, dark eyes bulging in shock, and then his cheeks flooded bright red.

“Or I could just play my game all night,” Kenma said as he took the bag from Kuroo’s weak grasp. As he walked away, he felt Kuroo’s eyes burning into his back, followed by a choked “Kenma!”  as he went into a random clothing shop.

Kuroo was fairly subdued for a bit, the blush not really leaving his face, coming back full force every time he glanced at Kenma. Good. It was not often he could leave Kuroo speechless, and it was always entertaining to break his suave façade. He was somehow very attractive like this. Looking at Kuroo, Kenma could never quite put his finger on what it was – flustered? vulnerable? expressive? Kuroo is often those things, though perhaps not quite in the same way. Kenma realizes he’s been staring a while, and Kuroo is no longer red, browsing through shirts in earnest, lost in a rack of dark shirts that all looked very similar to most of his current wardrobe. Typical.

Kuroo insisted on looking through racks and racks of clothing, buying nothing, and Kenma merely eyed a soft yellow shirt for a while before settling on staring at a bright blue skirt, thinking about how he would work on beating his new game, until Kuroo asked him if he wanted to try it on. He considered it, trying to imagine how he would look in it, before giving up.

“Might as well.” He took the yellow shirt too.

When he came out of the dressing room, Kuroo was holding up a white shirt with big black letters shouting “BIG COCK”, an amused smirk on his face. He glanced up, and his expression flashed from shocked to nearly unreadable. Kenma fidgeted, fingers twisting the blue hem of the skirt.

“I like this, I think,” he says softly. Kuroo keeps staring at him, a weird expression on his face. He nods slowly.

“Ok.”

“Kuroo, what’s with that face?”

“Wha– nothing,” Kuroo stutters out, “I’m just – you look really cute in that.”

Kenma stares at him, watching as Kuroo’s face slowly twists into discomfort, turning a bit pink before suddenly tipping his head upward and pressing a hand over his eyes, covering most of his face.

“Kuroo?”

“….”

“I think I’ll buy them,” Kenma says, watching as Kuroo peeks out between his fingers. Kuroo simply closes his eyes in response.

When Kenma comes back out, new outfit in hand, Kuroo is crouched down, the heels of his palms pressing against his eyes. At Kenma’s approach, he scrubs at his face a bit, then glances up at him.

“Ready, kitten?” He stands up, once again towering over Kenma. Kenma nods, and as they walk towards the front of the store, Kuroo suddenly veers towards the entrance.

“I’ll wait outside.”

Kenma nods, continues forwards, and watches Kuroo from the corner of his eye, as he quickly walks away with a weird gait. He allows himself a small grin as he greets the cashier.

***

Kuroo had somehow convinced him to come to the beach. How exactly, Kenma could not figure out. Kuroo’s argument had been something along the lines of “getting some sun before I fall into the dark abyss of work again” and “don’t you like the ocean Kenma?” – dramatic as always. And somehow he had had swim suits ready. Somehow everything worked out for a beach outing. Clearly he had been plotting this from the beginning.

“Oi, Kenma, careful or you’ll get sunburned.”

“Oh?” He turned, eyeing Kuroo with impatience. Kuroo simply smirked, and pulled a large sunhat out from behind his back, and plopped it on Kenma’s head, brim falling past his eyebrows. Frowning, he pushed it up so he could see again, ready to protest. But Kuroo was looking at him with a soft expression, a silly little grin on his face, one of the rare ones that showed a little dimple in his left cheek. So Kenma merely gave a soft sigh, and asked Kuroo to give him some sunscreen. Kuroo of course insisted on applying it, which Kenma couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed with, as Kuroo’s hands began to gently coax the knots out of his stiff shoulders. Another sigh.

“Kenma?” Kuroo asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

When there was no response, Kenma glanced up, catching Kuroo with another weird expression on his face which immediately disappeared into a forced grin.

“Ah, nevermind….do you want an ice cream?”

“Ah, sure.” Kenma looked towards the crashing waves.

Kuroo scampered off, kicking up loose sand in his wake. What the hell was that? Kenma mused as he listened to the murmuring roar of the waves, deciding that yes, Kuroo has been a bit off today, easier to provoke but harder to read, with his usual smirking façade slipping, but something else taking its place. Something else…what? It couldn’t be work related, nothing had changed on that front – Kuroo was exhausted from burning himself out on his latest project, maybe a bit more than usual, but his next project was already lined up, and he was as energetic as ever on the outside. Kenma knew part of it was Kuroo, and part of it was Kuroo trying to maintain his appearance for Kenma, but that wasn’t unusual either. So what was it?

“Here, Kenma.” Kuroo was kneeling next to him, holding an ice cream cone under his nose. He startled a bit, then took the ice cream silently, casually licking the dripping sides. There was a soft _cwish_ of sand as Kuroo sat down next to him. Kenma cursed himself for being such a wimp then shrugged, deciding he would wait for Kuroo to tell him what it was. Maybe.

Glancing up, he watched Kuroo lick at his own ice cream cone, lost in thought, his eyes focused on distant waves. Kenma’s gazed wandered, taking in the sheen of sweat gathered at Kuroo’s collarbone, the shadows dancing across his skin, accenting the freckles on his face, and his shoulders, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the curve of his back and the way his elbows rested on his knees, the small scars on his legs, mementos of various adventures and drunken nights, the strong muscles of his legs slimming down to the delicate curves of his ankles, the sand clinging to the edges of his feet. Kenma looked back up, and blushed a little when Kuroo met his eyes, realizing he had been staring at Kuroo’s legs, and Kuroo had been watching him do it. But Kuroo said nothing, simply held his gaze a moment then stretched out as if to pose for Kenma. Kenma ignored him, watching the waves rush in as he quickly finished his ice cream.

“Want to go for a swim, Kenma?”

“No.”

His quick response was met with a grin. Fuck. Kenma started to scooch away.

Kuroo immediately grabbed him, smoothly tossed him over his shoulder, and bolted towards the ocean, Kenma protesting as he watched their beach towel get smaller and smaller as he was bounced heavily by Kuroo’s uneven gait. Then,

“HERE WE GO!”

 _Woosh_.

Kenma came up sputtering and annoyed, coughing sea water. But Kuroo was laughing, pushing his dripping hair out of his eyes. He laughed more at Kenma’s expression, and picked him up again, this time the grip was slippery from the oily sunscreen on Kuroo’s arms and chest mixing with salt water. It was not unpleasant. Kemna frowned, and Kuroo kept chuckling as he carried him out of the surf, slowly making his way back to their towel.

***

They had ramen for a late dinner, after they cleaned up at the beach showers and walked back to the closest subway station. They drew weird looks from passerby as they walked by, their damp appearance and mall purchases an odd combination, and Kuroo’s hair had dried into a spectacular mess and nothing seemed able to tame it. Once again, Kuroo insisted they stay out, and so they went to see a movie, Kenma’s choice. So they sat through a psychological thriller blockbuster, and walked out with their heads spinning, questioning what just happened and what anything meant, and argued about if the protagonist was really dead the whole time or was he a bird? Kenma’s head hurt a little trying to reach a logical conclusion.

Kuroo was restless, so they walked around, Kenma trailing behind, taking in the 2am silence. They wandered through the dim streets without speaking, the silence filled with the rush and fade of a few car engines and lingering murmurs of movement in the night.

Eventually, they stray back towards their neighborhood, and Kuroo slows, letting Kenma drift slightly closer. Glancing over, he takes in the lights of the city reflecting in Kenma’s golden eyes, the night wind ruffling the edges of his pink hair, its color hazy in the neon lights. 

Kuroo swallows hard. Kenma is just so beautiful, so important, so Kenma. So small on the outside but so big on the inside, containing everything that made him Kenma, and all of Kuroo’s dreams, all his fears, tucked safely inside where no one could see, not even Kenma.

“Kenma.” He turns halfway, eyes questioning. Kuroo gives a tiny crooked smile.

“Let’s live forever,” His voice comes out low and serious.

Kenma stares, taking in Kuroo’s vulnerable expression, his wide eyes and his smile gone, sharp teeth worrying his lip. And Kenma hears Kuroo’s unspoken /together/. 

/Let’s live forever, together/

He gives a small smile.

“Yes.”

/Yes, I’ll follow you/

Kuroo stares a moment, then his eyes brighten, and he laughs, crushing Kenma to his chest, twirling them around a bit before pausing, bending down to kiss him softly. Kuroo pulls back, grinning. It was a silly, sad thing, that. A promise that could never really be kept by either of them. But the need to do so was an overwhelming feeling, a bittersweet ache in his chest, a swooping rush that landed in a soft weight in his stomach, a buzz in his fingertips, and he felt their heartbeats meet in their hands.

They walk back to the apartment slowly, neither one sure of when they had started holding hands.

When they reach the elevator, Kenma presses the button to their floor, jabs the door close button, then turns around slowly, eyes resting on Kuroo, considering. Kuroo glances down at him and Kenma’s heart gives a sharp squeeze, and finds an ache has been building in his bones. He wants. Kenma gestures for him to come closer. Kuroo smiles, and bends towards him. Kenma reaches out, pulls his face to his, kissing him fiercely, wanting to make the most of this sudden urge, this need. Kuroo gives a soft sound of surprise, but doesn’t fight it, lips parting to invite Kenma in. Kenma hums, pulls at his waistband, tugging his hips closer. They need to be closer. The elevator dings open, and thank god it’s so late…so early in the day. No one’s prying eyes to see him biting at Kuroo’s lower lip, hands roaming his lower back, or hear the soft sounds of kissing and skin. Those sights and sounds belonged to him alone.

They quickly made their way back to their apartment, hands tugging and caressing, legs awkwardly tangling as they groped the walls in efforts to stay upright. Kuroo walked backwards, stumbling against the wall, then the door, and Kenma pinned him there, pressing his wrists down against the wood, Kuroo still encumbered with their bags, kissing at exposed flesh. Kuroo made a noise of protest, and Kenma paused, fishing out his key to unlock the door. He turned the handle, and gently pushed Kuroo backwards into the entryway, where he promptly tripped over a pair of shoes, catching himself with a hand on the wall, and the other by his knee.

“Kuroo, be more careful with putting away your shoes,” Kenma chided with a blank face as he tipped his own shoes off.

Kuroo looked up from his awkward crouch, his expression twisting from surprise into annoyance.

“You knew those were there.”

“Hmm?” Kenma made an ambiguous noise, slowly walking over to him, watching his eyes follow the movement, drawing up to meet Kenma’s gaze, eyes widening as Kenma bent slightly, bringing their faces much too close. Kenma tangled his hands in Kuroo’s thick hair, mussing it further before firmly tugging, forcing Kuroo’s head back. He held him there a moment, their gaze locked, and Kuroo’s eyes widened further as he realized what Kenma wanted, his lips curling into a knowing smile. He let the bags drop to the floor with a muted thump. Kenma’s lips hovered over the exposed column of Kuroo’s neck, breathing slow and hot into his skin, until Kuroo gave a small shiver of anticipation.

He began trailing wet kisses down his throat, pausing to bite softly at the curve of his shoulder, pulling a soft moan from Kuroo’s lips. Kenma gave a small hum in response, giving another light tug to pull Kuroo’s head back further, licking a wet stripe across a sensitive spot before pulling back slightly to huff softly, breathing hot air onto the wet skin, making Kuroo shiver. He bit down harder this time and Kuroo groaned as he sucked at the bruising skin, Kenma’s right hand roaming south to caress his chest through his shirt.

Kenma paused, drawing back up to full height, looking down at Kuroo’s flushed cheeks, his lips parted as he breathed heavily. Kuroo’s hooded eyes gleamed in the half-light as they shifted to meet his, watching, waiting patiently. Kenma let go, allowing Kuroo to relax, and turned away, padding softly towards their bedroom.

In the darkness, he heard Kuroo’s breathing catch, the slow rustle of fabric as he rose from the floor, the flat sound of his feet against the wood as he followed Kenma to their bed. When the footsteps stopped Kenma turned; smoldering gold eyes caught his, and Kenma felt a rush that sent a shudder down his spine. His breath came out in a rush, and he watched Kuroo wordlessly come over to him, let him wrap his long body around him as his hands wandered low and Kuroo ducked his head to kiss at his neck and the join of his shoulders. Kenma relaxed against his warm weight, enjoying the lull of his embrace, the soft kisses trailing down his skin.

He tugged firmly at the hands caressing his stomach under his shirt, pulling them off and away, pulling Kuroo forward into him, dragging them both onto the bed.

He straddled him, bending down to kiss his small, dimpled smile, slow and soft, letting the heat rush through him, letting himself feel the warmth seeping up into his skin from their joined hips. He was teasing himself, testing how much it took to make the ache inside take over. It was there, waiting. He pushed against the soft lips, demanding, parting Kuroo’s lips, deepening the kiss, his own lips curling as swallowed Kuroo’s moan.

White heat was climbing up his spine, and Kuroo’s hands only spread it in stuttering webs tracing up his back. Kenma made a soft noise, tugging at Kuroo’s shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it over his head, throw it to the floor. Kuroo’s skin was hot, his large hands searing heat against his sides as he slid them upwards, forcing Kenma’s shirt off his shoulders.

Kenma bit back a moan as he laid himself across Kuroo’s chest, his mind caught in the overwhelming sensation of skin meeting skin, the pull of it on his rapidly narrowing focus. He was caught in Kuroo’s eyes, the intense possessiveness and demanding need in them. He felt his blood rush in his ears.

And Kenma was aching. Aching. He wanted to wreck him, have him turn liquid in his hands and call his name, call it out like it was the only word his tongue could remember.

“Kenma,” Kuroo’s soft murmur of his name was enough to bring him back into focus.

He began kissing his way down Kuroo’s chest, pausing to nip at sensitive skin, sucking bruises into the curve of his hip, breathing in the scent of Kuroo’s skin – salt and asphalt mixed with something warm and animalistic. Kenma pulled at Kuroo’s waistband, flicking open the button and firmly tugging it down, down to his knees. He could feel Kuroo’s eyes burning into him, breathing heavily as Kenma caressed him through his boxers, a light teasing touch. Kuroo’s breathing hitched as Kenma pulled his boxers down to meet his pants before yanking them both off entirely, throwing them aside to join their abandoned shirts.

Kenma looked down at Kuroo, reveling in the sight of his beautiful skin, the graceful curve of tattoos across firm muscles, the freckles scattered in abstract constellations that Kenma knew so well. Kuroo watched him from heavy-lidded eyes, his expression soft and open, his hands languidly tracing Kenma’s hips, letting Kenma set their pace.

Kenma let his fingers slowly slide up Kuroo’s legs, stroking softly at the back of his knees before pressing the sides of his thighs, gently. Kuroo obligingly spread them as Kenma’s hands continued upwards, ignoring Kuroo’s obvious erection in favor of teasing his inner thighs with light caresses, listening to Kuroo pant slightly.

He leaned forward, letting one hand reach out towards Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo stared at him as he took several fingers into his mouth, sucking sloppily at them as a flush spread across his cheeks. An answering flush ran down the back of Kenma’s neck as Kuroo swirled his tongue around his fingertips.

Kenma pulled his hand away, letting his slick fingers drag across Kuroo’s lips, watching Kuroo’s pupils blow wide as he spread Kuroo’s legs further.

Kenma slowly traced his entrance, fingers softly teasing, then lightly pressed a finger in, glancing up as Kuroo moaned low from his throat, the sound resonating in Kenma’s body, pulling at the warmth pooling low in his abdomen. He bit his lip as he slowly pushed in. Kuroo was tight and hot, excessively hot, and Kenma watched Kuroo’s face twist at the edge of pain, gasping, his eyes dark and glassy, but still focusing on Kenma, meeting his gaze. Kenma curled his finger. Kuroo cried out, his hips shuddering as his back arched, hands grasping the sheets, and his cry drug into a low moan as Kenma began thrusting in, setting a unhurried pace. The soft needy sounds Kuroo made each time Kenma curled in towards his prostate were cracking his composure, and his pace increased, his other hand pushing Kuroo’s hips down into the mattress.

Kenma paused, adding another finger, his grip tightening as Kuroo’s hips jumped, his head jerking back, his mouth held open but no sound came. He waited until Kuroo relaxed again.

Kuroo’s heavy panting edged into moans as Kenma resumed his thrusting pattern, faster this time. He curled his fingers, hard into him, and Kuroo let out a whimper. More and more sounds came from clenched lips as Kenma kept thrusting his fingers deep into him, Kuroo’s hips pressing into his touch. His voice pitched higher and higher, until finally,

“Kenma,” his voice was thick, lower than Kenma had ever heard, his face begging.

“Hmm?” Kenma curled his fingers again, and Kuroo shuddered, a whine breaking from his lips.

“Kenma, please.” Kuroo’s voice cracked at the end, and oh, that was new. Kenma found it hard to breathe, looking at Kuroo’s glassy expression, the flush that spread over Kuroo’s chest and thighs, his hands clenched in a tangled mess of bed sheets.

Kenma let out a shaky breath as he withdrew, and Kuroo let out a sound that was something between a whimper and a relaxed sigh.

Kenma turned away, reached over into the nightstand next to the bed for a condom and lube. He quickly yanked off what was left of his clothes, rolling the condom up his hard cock as he breathed out a sigh. He poured the lubricant into his hand, slicking himself up with a generous amount, letting soft sounds escape as he stroked himself, head tilting back even as he watched Kuroo out of the corners of his eyes enjoying the way Kuroo stared up at him, cheeks glowing red, eyes unfocused and dark, black pools swallowing up the gold.

Kenma swallowed thickly, bending down to kiss him, hard, letting his mind go blank at the sensation of the soft heat of their mouths, the wet slide of tongues, his focus abruptly narrowing to the feeling of one hand caressing Kuroo’s hot cheeks, the other balancing his weight against cool sheets.

He pulled back, settling his weight against Kuroo as he lined up their hips. There. He pushed in.

Kenma was almost embarrassed at the sounds that left his throat, but they were overwhelmed by Kuroo’s loud gasps that edged into a whine as Kenma pushed in deeper. Kenma paused, waiting for Kuroo’s fists to unclench, letting his breathing normalize before moving his hips in slow thrusts, his hands pulling Kuroo’s hips into his. Kuroo panted, slowly adjusting until his hips were pressing back into Kenma’s thrusts, turning his hips upward for a better angle, shifting their position so he was half-sitting. Kenma kept his pace steady, until Kuroo let out something like a growl deep in his throat, and grabbed Kenma’s hips, his long fingers tightening into a bruising grip, thrusting back into him, forcing Kenma deeper inside him. Kenma’s hands tightened on Kuroo’s hips, but kept his pace slow as he started going deeper every few thrusts, the movement making his hair fall into his eyes. He tilted his head back a bit sighing contently as he listened to Kuroo’s gasping breaths, the slick sounds of skin on skin.

Finally, he shifted his knees a bit, pushed Kuroo’s legs even wider, and thrust in hard as Kuroo breathed out. Kuroo let out a harsh whine, his breath leaving him in a rush as he fell back against the bed. Kenma picked up a fast, almost punishing pace, but Kuroo’s mouth curled into a loose smile, his sharp teeth gleaming as his head tilted back, catching the dim light.

“Ah ,fuck. _Fuck_.” Kuroo exhaled. “God Kenma, don’t stop.”

Kenma lifted a hand, and reached down to stroke him. Kuroo let out a startled gasp.

“Fuck, Kenma!”

They rutted against each other, the force of each thrust causing their breath to catch. The sensations were running, sliding together into a mess of heat and sound, and fuck it was so good. Both of them were gasping out little noises. Kenma thrust harder into him, Kuroo’s hips echoing his, stroking harder, until, there. There.

Kuroo cried out, his voice choking, stumbling over Kenma’s name. His muscles spasmed around Kenma, and his chest heaved as he came hot over his hand and across their stomachs. It was all Kenma could do to keep up, thrusting erratically until his vision was lost in white heat, gasping as he came, his hand tangled in Kuroo’s hair.

They collapsed against each other, breathless and silent, hearts beating fast enough that Kenma could feel them, pounding against his too-sensitive skin.

Kuroo was panting into Kenma’s too-hot skin as Kenma waited for his own breathing to slow down, their arms tangled uselessly around each other.

Finally, Kenma pulled out slowly, carefully, and forced himself to walk over to the bathroom and clean up a little.

When Kenma came back out, he found that Kuroo had sloppily cleaned himself up, and was now asleep, completely uncovered, except for the worn t-shirt he had thrown on. Kenma’s throat felt a bit tight when he padded over and saw that it was the Superman one Kenma had given him ages ago, before he had understood that he meant as much to Kuroo as Kuroo did to him. Kenma crawled up to him, and curled onto his chest as he let himself relax against Kuroo’s solid warmth.

/I love you, Kuroo/

“I love you too, kitten.” Kenma blinked up, startled, to find sleepy gold eyes watching him from narrowly open lids. It must have slipped out from him. Long arms wrapped around him as Kuroo turned over, curling his long body around Kenma’s small frame, holding him tightly.

**

As they drift off to sleep, Kenma decides that yes, today was a very surreal day. And what had slid by had been something he had already known, had already been waiting for.

/Let’s live together, forever/

The absence of the endless buzzing of the cicadas was almost deafening as he listened to Kuroo’s slow breathing, tickling the back of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at Gin's amazing art for the Adulthood au visuals (eicinic.tumblr.com).
> 
> *Bother me about typos or stuff on tumblr (standingonthesky), or twitter (skynikk).


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